


ride or die

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-07
Updated: 2010-03-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:13:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12661530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Maru doesn’t have to risk his life to live on the edge.





	ride or die

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

True to his nature, Nakamaru is scared of motorcycles. They go too fast, they have no protection from the weather or other drivers, and someone insane like Koki is usually driving them.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t find it _hot_ , though. For the longest time he got this indescribable chill when he heard one going down the street outside, and it wasn’t until the rehearsals for Koki’s last solo that he made the distinction.

He hears the rumble in his head, a prelude to the tingles that course through his body as his arousal peaks in the middle of the night. The first couple times he didn’t understand it, didn’t want to _admit_ what it actually was, and then that silence-piercing noise zoomed outside his window and he nearly came in his pants.

It became a little more tolerable when he started imagining actual people with the vehicle. Koki has so much porn that he doesn’t notice when a couple magazines disappear, the big-breasted foreign women draped all over the shiny metal that Koki only wishes to own one day (the bike, not the girls, obviously). But Maru leans back with his hand down his pants, staring hard at the curves and skimpy bikinis, and nothing happens.

He wonders if he has some kind of machine fetish, lingering in front of the display of shiny motorcycles, shuddering when the inevitable sound occurs from the biker bar across the street. Maybe he should go in, maybe they would understand him.

Of course he just goes home, jerks off to the thought of feeling those vibrations between his legs, and hates himself a little more.

Then Jin buys one.

It’s a crotch rocket and they all mock him for it, but Jin could give a shit and zooms around with no regard to street limitations or parking spaces, making all of the young girls and old ladies clutch their hearts as he passes by. He buys leather pants and fingerless gloves, paints wings on his helmet, and revs the engine to the tune of Care while winking at Maru because he knows that the older man will never, ever go for a ride.

It’s basically the hottest thing Maru’s ever seen.

He’s not sure if it’s better or worse now that his fantasies have an actual human body, because it’s _Jin_ and he’s known Jin since his mouth was too big for his face and his hair was big and poofy. They’ve both grown but Jin has changed the most, evolving into something of an adult with hard features and a little meat on his bones.

An adult whom, if Maru was being completely honest with himself, he now had a strong desire to see naked. And not in An-An or the dressing room, alone and preferably on top of him.

Being with Jin would be a lot like riding a motorcycle, Maru imagines. Thrilling and terrifying, going too fast to properly see what’s in front of them and pushing until the absolute last minute before they crash.

The thought alone has him coming so hard that he can barely see straight afterward. Maru’s hands under Jin’s coat, tight around his waist and holding onto the flesh of his abdomen while his mind is filled with the scent of leather and Jin. Cologne, shampoo, Jin always smells good, even after a grueling practice when his sweat tests the strength of his deodorant. Maru wonders if he sweats while fucking.

It doesn’t help that Jin keeps teasing him, in real life as well as behind his eyes. “Just sit on in, Yucchi, feel it purr,” and Nakamaru backs away as far as he can because he _knows_ Jin will take off the minute he sits down. His heart beats madly in his throat and his anxiety rises, strategically placing his man bag across his front to hide his growing erection that’s begging to feel the vibrating seat and press against Jin’s leather-clad ass.

In his mind, he rides. He buries his face in the back of Jin’s neck, Jin’s long hair hiding the world whipping by on both sides as Maru molds himself to Jin’s back and holds on for dear life. His hands rise up the sides of Jin’s torso, the skin shuddering under his touch and giving him the tiniest bit of leverage in such a dangerous situation. He feels Jin arch towards him and can’t stop his hands from moving higher, flattening along the smooth planes of Jin’s chest to where his nipples are hard and begging for attention.

Jin’s sharp intake of breath sounds even better in the rush of air that goes by. It’s calming, playing with Jin like this, his fingers flicking the buds as his mouth acquires a mind of its own and sucks along the skin right under Jin’s hairline.

He doesn’t stop. Neither one of them stops, the bike continuing to cruise at impossible speeds down some rural highway in the middle of nowhere. Jin pushes back against Maru and the latter groans, his own noises mixed with the motor and driving him to rock his hips in retaliation. It’s like a race to see who gives in first, who ‘wins’ even if Maru thinks that they’ll both win _more_ if Jin kills the fucking engine and bends him over the seat.

Maru’s imagination is much more daring than he is, it seems, even if he fails to see the plausibility in him managing to straddle Jin’s waist with one leg out of his pants _while moving_. Taguchi might be able to pull it off but not Maru, regardless of how effortless it happens in his brain’s cinema. It works, though, his cock at full mast and throbbing in his hand as he squirms all over his bed with an arm flung over his eyes, body rolling into his own fist.

He can feel Jin’s rushed breath in his ear, raspy words of encouragement as Maru boldly opens his pants and strokes out his cock. Maru has heard that it’s quite big and his imagination delivers, glad that this isn’t real and he doesn’t actually have to swallow that massive thing in any orifice. It doesn’t stop him from spreading his legs as far as they will go, feeling like a whore in his empty apartment with Mister locked out of his room and two slick fingers easing their way inside his own body.

“Just sit on it, Yucchi,” Jin’s voice groans out amidst his harsh exhales. “Let’s go for a ride.”

Maru’s body arches as he probes himself deep inside, his fantasy self lifting up enough to sink back down on Jin’s thick erection. He moans out loud, both versions of himself as his mind shifts to the point of view of the one who is bouncing up and down on Jin’s cock while the cool air hits his back. He hears Jin let out a sound akin to his singing and it shoots right down Maru’s spine, fueling him to move faster because it’s still a race, now a race against time to finish before they get to where they’re going, wherever that may be.

“Yucchi,” Jin gasps, and what Maru wouldn’t give to hear his name in that tone from this person for real.

Jin’s pulling up on the handlebars just a little, enough to make the bike bounce for them and send him even deeper inside Maru. His arms are in a death grip around Jin’s back but he forces himself to peel one away, shove it between them and touch himself, the wheelies forcing his cock up into his own hand in time with their rhythm.

The adrenaline is still there, despite being just a fantasy. Maru still feels that fear of falling, of crashing, but right now it’s mixed with the overwhelming urge to come and he never thought the two extremes would fit together quite like this.

Both of Maru’s hands are between his legs, one three-fingers deep inside himself while the other fists his cock as fast as he can. Filthy words pour out of his mouth, words that he would never say to anyone except maybe Jin, hissed into his neck as he falls apart while riding him at high speeds.

The world seems to stop when Maru comes, the explosion of orgasm that rocks his body and leaves him limp and breathless. All he hears is the pounding of his heart in his ears, his body sprawled across his own bed and heaving chest desperate for air.

Then that familiar sound booms from the audible horizon, pushing the aftershocks to last even longer until Maru’s sure that the motorcycle is right outside his door.

Predictably, his phone goes off. _I’m outside your building, let’s go for a ride_.

Maru laughs and struggles to press the right keys. _Over my dead body_.

Some things are better left to the imagination.


End file.
